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The warehouse only had a few doors and most of them were chained shut from the inside.

But one of the doors was not chained.

That’s the door Creighton headed toward. If Randi and the cop decided they wanted to visit him, he would give them a little welcoming present.

A team of seven agents followed Ralph into the conference room, and we all watched the video together.

Then Ralph rose and began to pace. “As of right now, this is a joint investigation with the San Diego police. Blair, I want you to work with ‘em. Look into Cassandra’s background. Family, ex-boyfriends, colleagues, the whole deal.” One of the agents acknowledged Ralph with a nod. “Hernandez, find out which companies nationwide could manufacture a tank like that, and if any have been shipped to this region.” I wasn’t surprised Ralph had learned the agents’ names when they joined us during the break. He was cut out for leadership. A natural.

He threw me a glance. “What do you think, Pat, start with the last six months and work backward? Look for companies in Southern California first, then spread out?” Even though he was officially in charge, we’d worked together on so many cases that it felt routine for him to consult with me.

“Yes,” I said. “Good call.”

Blair and Hernandez nodded. Rose. Left.

Lien-hua walked to the whiteboard. “Let’s not miss the big picture here. When I was a girl, my parents once took my family to Yosemite. I sat behind my father, who was driving. When cars or trucks would pass us, they’d go right past my window.”

The newly assigned agents listened intently. I didn’t know where Lien-hua was going with this, and it didn’t look like they did either.

“Whenever a semi would pass our car and I’d look out my window, since all I could see was the truck, it didn’t look like our car was traveling at fifty-five or sixty miles per hour, but rather it looked like the truck was standing still-”

“And your car was going backward,” exclaimed Ralph.

“Right.”

“So,” I said, finally tracking with her. “Point of reference. Things are not always what they appear.”

“Right. The perspective you use to address a problem. It affects how you view the situation.”

“OK.” Ralph rapped his knuckles against the table. “Maybe we need to step out of the car and look at this from the side of the road.”

“Yes,” Lien-hua said. “Or climb into the cab of the truck.”

She picked up a dry-erase marker. “Let’s imagine we abducted Cassandra.” She looked around the room. “Why? What possible motive could we have?”

One of the agents to my right called out, “Ransom.”

Lien-hua nodded, wrote it on the board. Ralph had let her take control of the meeting without any objection. He’s not the kind of guy to feel intimidated by someone else’s competence.

“What else?” Lien-hua asked.

“To kill them,” a female agent said grimly. “Or to abuse, or torture, or rape them.”

Lien-hua wrote the word harm on the board. “I think you’re right,” she said. “So. Two categories so far: to harm the victim or benefit from the abduction.”

“Or both,” I added. “In this case, it appears Cassandra’s abductor wants to torture her, but he also gave a time and a choice: ‘Freedom or pain? You decide.’ It seems that if something happens before the deadline, it could buy Cassandra’s freedom.”

Lien-hua wrote both on the board. “Any other thoughts?”

I didn’t want to stand on my soapbox, but I did want to make sure we stayed focused. “People want lots of things out of life,”

I said. “Money, love, power, sex, respect, fame, whatever. The list goes on. We want to be happy, comfortable. We want meaning and adventure, as well as some sense of security or safety. Sometimes we want all of them at the same time. Trying to decipher someone’s motives is like trying to follow the roots of a tree. They all inter-mingle beneath the surface. You can’t pull one up without uprooting many others as well.”

Lien-hua set down the dry-erase marker. “But Pat, everyone has something that matters to him more than anything else. That one thing that he would die for, or risk everything for.”

Ralph leaned both of his mighty arms on the table. “It’s one way to control people,” he said. “If you can find the thing that matters most to someone and either promise to help him get it or threaten to take it away, he’ll do almost anything for you-go against his values, his morals, his religion. Find that one thing and you own him.” He rapped the table with his fist. “Army Ranger Interrogation Techniques 101."

Lien-hua gave us a decisive nod. “So. The email was sent to Hunter. Someone is trying to control him. So what does Austin Hunter want?”

“Cassandra,” I said. Nods from the people in the room. We were on the same page. “But,” I added, “if Hunter is our arsonist, what did he want when he started the other fires?”

Lien-hua looked at me with a light grin. “It sounds like you’re trying to decipher motives, Dr. Bowers.”

“Just trying to be cooperative.”

Ralph was taking notes on a scrap of paper, figuring out all the threads of the investigation we needed to pursue. He nodded to one of the men in the room. “Peterson, check Hunter’s bank accounts, see if our guy made any sizable deposits around the time of the fires.

Graham, Castillo, have Lieutenant Mendez take you back through Hunter’s apartment, see if there’s anything there that might lead us to him. Solomon, you’re all over that dart. Find us a brand name, manufacturer, distributor. And Mueller, go through Hunter’s personnel records and start following up with the other guys on his SEAL team. Maybe there’s a connection we missed. I’ll work with Lieutenant Graysmith, have him send a team to Cassandra’s place.”

I could feel a growing urgency in every word he spoke.

“But,” Lien-hua said, “the big question we still need to answer is: if eight o’clock really is the deadline, what determines whether or not Cassandra gets set free? What does Hunter bring to the table?”

“He specializes in starting fires,” I said.

“What do you think?” Ralph was addressing the whole team.

“‘Burn down a building and you get Cassandra back.’ Sounds like ransom to me.”

“Yes,” said Lien-hua thoughtfully. “But if he started other fires before, why not just ask him to start this one…” Once again she was doing what she did best: diving into people’s motives, thinking like they think. Reasoning like they reason. “Wait. Maybe this is a building he wouldn’t normally agree to burn down. He’s always been careful to set the fires so that they burn out quickly. No fatalities. No injuries.”

Uh-oh.

“You think maybe a building filled with people?” asked one of the agents nervously, mirroring my thoughts.

“We can’t count it out,” Lien-hua said. “Like Ralph said before, if you threaten to take away the one thing that matters most, a person will abandon his values, everything he holds dear.”

In the icy silence that followed her statement, I decided what angle I had to pursue. I stood up. “I’ll follow up on the videos from the aquarium, see if we got any footage of the abductor. Also, Cassandra was working on some kind of grant from the government. I want to know exactly what it involved. I’ll fly through some of her files, see if I can figure out why she went to the aquarium this morning. Maybe that’ll tell us what the people who took her are after.”

“I’m going to watch the video of her again,” said Lien-hua. “Try to climb into our kidnapper’s head.”

“All right,” said Ralph. “And the SDPD is sending a dozen cops to comb the warehouses by the shipyard.”

“A dozen?” Lien-hua said. “That’s it?”

“All they could spare.” And then he said, “Everyone’s got a job to do. Let’s do it.”

Without another word we stood and went our separate ways.

I looked at my watch. We had less than four hours to find Cassandra Lillo before she died in the tank.

44

Creighton stared calmly down the gun barrel at the head of the cop standing beside Randi. The door was cracked open just enough for him to watch them, and to kill them if necessary. All he needed was a good reason to pull the trigger.